


point of no return

by doubletan



Category: DCU, Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Brainwashing, Captivity, Collars, Come Eating, Deepthroating, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masochism, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, its basically a challenge of how many kinks can i fit in one fic, please let me know if i missed out any triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubletan/pseuds/doubletan
Summary: He has been shaped and molded by Slade's hands so entirely that it feels a little bit like comfort now, when Slade touches him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 269





	point of no return

**Author's Note:**

> i been lurking in the sladin fandom for years now and couldn't find the courage to write a fic for them, but reading lots of wonderful sladin fics recently had me in a lot of (horny) feels so here i am :D

He would think he been dropped into a void was it not for the pain. All he sees is darkness, and maybe his eyes are closed or maybe he has been blindfolded, but he can neither confirm nor deny these assumptions with his hands bound tight to his back. His skin is numb and the only place in his body that seems to have any feeling left is the throbbing pain below. He thinks he might have felt cold some time ago, or a long time ago. He doesn't know how long he has been here, he lost track of it.

All he knows right now is darkness and pain. He thought he knew darkness, the darkness of night, the darkness of the Batcave, the darkness that can reside in people's hearts, but he never knew how dark it could be until now. All-consuming, it has swallowed him alive.

The toys in his ass and strung tight around his balls vibrate intensely, and he jerks and gasps into the dark. He feels a surge, and he thinks he might finally come, but they settle into a low hum once more as the intensity is turned down.

He sobs. He is as tight as a bow, bowstring pulled taut but the release never arrives, and his body seems to consist solely of the pain that wrecks his frail frame in time to the hum of the toys. He should take his punishment quietly, he can hear Slade's voice admonishing him once again with his one eye narrowed at him in disappointment, prove to Slade that he is not as weak as he looks.

The thought frightens him. Is he trying to prove to Slade because Slade wants him to, or because he himself wants to? Or are both desires one and the same? Just as he thinks he might have found an answer to it the pain intensifies and the dawning knowledge escapes him entirely.

Blinding white pierces his sight, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a cry of pain. It's still too bright. He tries to move his arms to shield them better before he remembers they are bound.

He hears footsteps, heavy and loud. It hurts his ears. It had been so quiet, so dark-

"Have you learned your lesson?"

It echoes through the bright room, pounds in his ears. He has to answer, he knows he has to. But he can't. It's too bright, too loud.

He hears Slade hum to himself, and something clicks in his hand just as the vibrations stop. The pain eases, but it does not vanish completely.

It is quiet once more except for his own erratic breaths as he tries to acclimatize to the new environment. His eyes are closed but he can feel Slade's presence crushing him down more and more as each second passes in silence, and he knows he has to answer soon before Slade's patience wears out on him again.

"Yes Master," he hears himself say when he finally can, hoarse and weak with his eyes still shut against the light. Had he been shouting earlier? He can't remember.

It sounds more like a plead to be released from punishment, but he isn't saying it only to please Slade, he really learned his lesson. He really did.

He pries his eyes open and squints against the light. It is more tolerable than before even though it still hurts. But he needs to show Slade he means it. Slade prizes honesty, he will show Slade he is being honest.

He finds Slade standing above him, and he quivers slightly when he sees the intensity of Slade's eye on him. He doesn't try to convince Slade of his candor, he has learned the hard way that he should only speak when necessary.

His cock aches, lying hard and erect against his stomach. He doesn't feel a shred of humiliation in being naked and hard in front of Slade anymore. He has no more pride to lose after all.

He forces himself to remain still under Slade's gaze even though all he wants to do is rub his cock against his belly or the ground to bring himself to release. But he knows if Slade had not let him come earlier, he wouldn't want him to do so now without his permission.

He has learned his lesson.

"And what have you learned?" Slade finally says, which means he has recognized the integrity in his words, and the fist clenching his chest releases its hold.

Relief floods him and he blurts out his answer quickly, "Th-that I should never cum without your permission." His swollen member is a testament to his words.

"And do you know why you shouldn't?" Slade's eye crinkles in approval behind his mask.

"Because you're my Master and I live to serve and obey my Master." The words are followed with a rush of heat to his groin. Slade has driven the words so deeply into him that it rolls off his tongue easily now, even as a part of him still rebels against the truth of it.

He squashes it down mercilessly. He fears Slade will see the resistance in his eyes and lock him up in this dark room again, but what he fears more is the look of disappointment Slade will give him, that says that he should have been well trained enough not to have such traitorous feelings.

He should be scared that that is what he fears. He used to be scared. He is slipping away into someone he had feared becoming but he cannot muster the energy to resist or even care. To keep himself in check and play the role Slade wants him to at the same time, sooner or later one will have to cave.

Slade's eye glints in the light. "That's not all."

His heart leaps to his throat. He made Slade angry again when he has been adamantly trying his best not to do so. _Stupid, stupid-_

But Slade continues without a shred of anger in his voice but of gentle chiding, and his body relaxes. "I do everything for a purpose, and my commands are to mold you into a better version of yourself pet. It is a practice of control, of discipline, your compliance to authority. To understand your own position and your ability to please your Master."

It made sense. Every time Slade had punished him for his wrongdoings, there had always been reasons behind it. He thinks of the time when he first started serving Slade, when he had been _so bad_ and Slade had to punish him all the time. Slade explained that the reasons for them were because he had to be broken down before he could be remolded into a better version of himself.

He doesn't know if he has been broken already. The more time he spent with Slade the more he realizes he knows so little of so much, or of any of it at all. How conceited, how arrogant he was. Slade had been right about him. Slade has always been right.

But what he does know is that Slade is making him better. Slade has never punished him just for the sake of it. Slade wasn't like those mundane criminals who tortured the heroes just for the sick pleasure, Slade didn't do it unless he deserved it. He deserved his punishment because he been bad. He wondered when he began realizing Slade had been doing all of this for his own good.

"Yes Master, I understand now." He says. "I'm grateful." He is.

 _The first thing you need to learn is gratitude,_ Slade had said long ago, and he has. He had pleaded on his knees for the lives of his former friends, and Slade had been generous enough to let them live. The desire to escape Slade and return to them has vanished entirely. Even if he could, he would not. Where could he go? He is not the same person they or anyone else had known him to be. He isn't Robin anymore, he isn't Dick Grayson either. He has been long past the repulsion of being tainted by Slade's hands, both inside and out, but he knows everyone else would not be. He has been shaped and molded by Slade's hands so entirely that it feels a little bit like comfort now, when Slade touches him.

Thoughts like this should scare him, he knows, he _knows_ , but it is difficult to find reasons to why they should.

Slade's eye crinkles further in pleasure, and even though he notices the warmth that blooms in his chest he doesn't try to stifle it.

Slade bends down to remove the vibrators around his cock and the dildo from his hole, careful not to touch him. He shudders from the movements of the toys as they drag against his sensitive parts but he does not come through sheer force of will.

Slade throws them to the side and stands back up to pull down the zipper on his pants. The sound does not grate on him anymore, just like how he is able to have his eyes fully open now without the light hurting him. He is beginning to feel the ache in his arms from being tied up for so long and along his sides from the unforgiving hard ground. The skin around his wrists burns from chafing against the ropes when he struggled in the beginning. In its own way it feels liberating to be able to feel again even if it is pain. It is a constant in his life after all.

"Show me how grateful you are then."

He almost falls on his face a couple of times, shaking with the effort to bring himself up to his knees without the aid of his arms. He avoids his puddle of precum on the floor and shuffles quickly to Slade before Slade gets angry at him for dawdling.

He does not hesitate to suck Slade's balls into his mouth in earnest before licking up the length of his cock. It's harder to give a satisfactory blowjob without the use of his hands but this has happened enough times that he learns how to do it well. He dips his tongue into the slit, swirls his tongue over the head and he can't help but feel a burst of pride when he sees Slade's cock reacting to his ministrations.

Hollowing his cheeks, he sucks the entire length into his mouth. He does this a few times more, bobbing his head up and down as he does so before he hears a growl from Slade as his fingers dig into his collar to pull his mouth all the way down Slade's cock. It hits the back of his throat and he is too well trained to gag, but he takes Slade's cue and begins to deepthroat him while Slade steadies him with his fingers curled in his collar.

He wishes Slade would touch him, his entire body is buzzing for Slade to touch him. He leans closer to Slade, hoping to be able to have his body touch Slade's legs but Slade takes a step back and his cock slips from his mouth.

"No," Slade says.

He braces himself for pain, for Slade to punish him for trying to seek his own pleasure without his permission. It does not come.

He looks up at Slade in bewilderment, licking his lips as he chases the taste of Slade's precum.

"Turn around," Slade says instead. "Ass in the air."

He is more than eager to obey. Slade must be in a very good mood today, and he wants to enjoy as much of it as he can.

He presses his face against the ground, lifts his hips up as high as possible. He trembles in anticipation.

A finger rubs against his hole, and he gasps in response.

Slade's voice is layered with amusement. "Just a finger and your ass is already clenching around it." Slade digs two fingers into his prostate and he lets out a mewl of pleasure.

"Do you want my cock pet?"

They have had this conversation many times before, where he had once fought hard and rebelled with gritted teeth and grim determination against Slade's attempt to condition him with the expected words he should answer with. In hindsight, there had been no point in resisting.

With his body feverishly hot, his cock heavy between his legs and the steadily growing frustration where Slade's fingers are not enough, it sounds like nothing but the truth now. "Yes please, I want it so bad Master."

He angles his hips higher in hopes that it would make the view look more desirable for Slade. "Please Master, I want your cock fucking me I-"

Slade removes his fingers and shoves his length in without ceremony, all the way down to the hilt.

He keens, arching his back against the ground. Even with how the toy had opened him up earlier, it still hurts from being fucked so roughly.

Slade's fingers claw into his hips to hold him still, and the delicious pain from that, and the pounding in his ass, much more intensified than usual due to the prolonged deprivation of his senses makes him moan in breathy pants, trembling in Slade's grasp.

"Whore," Slade says approvingly, smacking his buttcheek. He lurches forward, stinging pain transforming into warmth that pools low in his belly. "Ahh Master," he mewls, writhing in pleasurable agony as Slade continues to slap his ass and he struggles not to come.

"You like this pet?" The next slap across his other cheek has him whimpering.

He nods desperately. "Yes Master. It feels so good."

Slade bends down to lick the shell of his ear possessively. "If only you can see yourself now pet, what a slut you are for my cock."

The degradation sends electricity zinging through his veins. It's even better because Slade likes seeing his pet like this, and he likes it if Slade likes it too.

He wasn't like this before, he never imagined he would be like this. This is just one more thing Slade has molded him into, another reason why he will never be able to return to being Robin ever again.

He thinks of the first time he had came from Slade fucking him, how horrified he was and how he had curled away from Slade and cried and cried. Slade had laughed then, and said how a whore like him who comes from being fucked in the ass could ever be a hero. And Slade has always been right.

He remembers how the him from the past had thought Slade was raping him, _how foolish of him._ Slade had pointed out if it was rape he wouldn't have came from it, which meant he enjoyed it. Not only that, Slade was doing this for his own good, and things always seem painful and bad when he resisted.

He remembered being disgusted by his words then, but the more time passed and the more Slade had repeated the same words, he is finally able to see the truth in them. How can it be rape if he enjoys it and comes every time Slade touches him? How can it be rape if he now dreams and touches himself to the thought of Slade fucking him?

It's much less painful too, since Slade prepares him for his cock now that he is obedient and doesn't resist. What remains of the pain has been transformed into something pleasurable, and he can't imagine Slade fucking him without any pain involved when the pain makes him feel so good. Slade had said it meant that he had become stronger, better, now that the pain doesn't bother him as much as it did in the past, and he will always remember how Slade had looked at him then like he was so so proud of him.

Slade was right. He has always been right.

Slade spanked his ass one final time. "Begin," Slade says.

"I live to serve and obey my Master. I live to-" Slade thrusts into his prostate and he gasps loudly, earning himself a chuckle from Slade that warms him to the core. "-serve and obey my Master." The words seem to sound truer each time he recites it. He wonders how long it will take before he believes it wholeheartedly.

"I live to serve and-" A hand pulls his collar up roughly, holding it there as he chokes on the leather against his throat. His tongue lolls out as he frantically tries to get air into his lungs but Slade's grip remains unrelenting. Slade continues to slam into him from behind and the forward movement pushes him forward to choke on his collar further. He's starting to get dizzy, and his arms strain against his back instinctively to grapple at his throat.

Black spots encroaches his vision, and the lack of oxygen makes him feel like he is on the verge of bursting and the headiness sends heat straight to his groin. Just as he thinks he might pass out Slade releases his hold and he falls to the ground hard. He wheezes, taking huge gulps of air but Slade never stops in his rhythm of fucking him against the ground.

"I live to serve and obey my Master," he begins again shakily. "I live to serve ahh..." he moans. His cock is heavy and aching and another puddle of precum is being built steadily below him, and he shudders all over when Slade starts to hit his prostate again and again. "...and obey my Master."

He is trained enough by now that he would not break the mantra of words. He has broken them to beg for release so many times, and each time he was punished severely for them.

"Do you want to come?" Slade asks, who always seem to know when he reaches the edge of his endurance.

He is finally allowed to beg and the relief is as dizzying as when Slade had choked him. "Please please please Master," he babbles incoherently, trembling as he tries to hold his orgasm in. "Please, please-"

"Who owns you pet?" Slade punctuates his question with a thrust of his hips, one hand fisted in his collar to remind him.

"You Master," he whispers reverently.

Slade hums in approval and wraps a hand around his cock. Slade's hand encompasses the entire length of his cock and the touch is so excruciating he nearly passes out. He is shaking so heavily he would have fallen onto his side was it not for Slade's other hand holding his hips firm. All his concentration and willpower is focused on not coming because Slade has not given him leave to do so. And he doesn't want Slade angry or disappointed at him, he wants Slade proud of him please please _please_ -

Slade pounds into him from behind, drags his hand up and down his length. It's painful but feels so good at the same time, and only Slade could have made pain feel so good for him, only Slade could have made him into who he is now, only Slade could have whittled him down to the very core and remade him into what Slade envisions him to be.

"You can come now," Slade murmurs in his ear.

His body goes limp, his vision goes white, he comes and comes and comes, jerking in small movements against the ground while Slade continues to fuck him from behind.

Turning him around roughly, Slade comes all over him, spurting white strips over his face and chest to mark him while he continues to jerk over himself in his orgasm, mingling with Slade's come on his body.

He must not have passed out for long, for when he wakes up cum is still warm on him. He is propped up in a sitting position as Slade unties his arms.

When Slade moves to stand in front of him, he gets into a kneeling position, slowly and shakily, and for a moment he thinks he might fall flat at Slade's feet.

"Master," he sways slightly in position. "Thank you for fucking me."

He takes Slade's cock still hanging out of his fly into his mouth, cleaning the remaining cum with his tongue.

He uses his fingers to gather the cum over his body and face, and licks them clean one by one. The warmth of it makes it more bearable than the cold puddles of cum on the floor, and as he licks those clean as well he pushes down the urge to gag.

The thought of resisting does not find its way into his thoughts anymore, he has been adequately trained that what he does now has become routine.

Slade watches him the entire time, and he basks in the rarity of holding Slade's attention.

When he is done, he returns to kneel before Slade. He looks up at him for further instruction.

Slade stares at him for a moment in appraisal, and his hand falls to pat his head. "Good boy," he says.

He can hear the pride in his words.

It's too much.

He thinks he might burst from the seams.

Wetness drips down his cheeks. He's crying.

"Master," he breaths, reaching towards Slade. "Master, please..."

He does not know what he is begging for, but Slade knows, Slade always knows. Slade knows him like the back of his hand, better than he knows himself.

Slade picks him up, holds him tight to his chest. "Sshhh I got you pet," Slade coos, stroking a hand down his back. "I got you."

It's warm. It's gentle. Slade's touch overwhelms all his senses. He never felt so so small and frail in Slade's arms but also so protected and cared for at the same time, and he thinks maybe he had to be the former to have the latter.

He never knew how good it felt to be touched like this. He never knew how good it felt when Slade touches him. He never knew how much he wanted Slade to keep touching him like this forever.

He never knew how much he needed Slade.

He brings his arms around Slade. "Master," he buries his face in Slade's neck, breathing in his scent.

"You've been such a good boy," Slade says. "You made me very proud."

He whines from the praise, trembling slightly in Slade's arms. His tears continue to fall.

Slade rocks him softly in the cradle of warmth he has created. "Sleep pet. You deserve it." Slade runs his hand through his hair and he shudders from the tenderness of it all, shudders from how the last stubborn vestiges of resistance finally fall away.

"I'll take care of you." Master says, and that is the last thing he hears before he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i was actually pretty excited to post this actually because it's my first sladin fic finally!!!!! but also nervous as hell because it's my first sladin fic and i haven't written in 6 months pls validate me tq ;-;
> 
> [tumblr](http://doubletan.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/tandoubletan)
> 
> wrote a sequel [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157458) !


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